Arresting Development
by Qweb
Summary: The FBI had a warrant for Steve's arrest, and they insisted that Danny serve it. Some spoilers for Episode 18, Loa Aloha.
1. Do You Own a Silver Camaro?

_I didn't plan to run this story next, but I realized in my personal chronology (my stories minus episode tags) it came next. There are some spoilers for Episode 18 "Loa Aloha." And wasn't it nice of the series to provide an FBI agent with a grudge just when I needed one for a story. This story takes place a couple of months after "Loa Aloha" (but somehow before Episode 19 when Jenna shows up). And, yes, I've been writing this story since before Episode 18 aired, but other stories kept rudely shoving it aside. Now it's time._

_H50 — H50 — H50_

**Arresting Development**

**Chapter 1: Do You Own a Silver Camaro?**

"Daniel Williams, where were you at 1 p.m. on Saturday, March 12?"

Standing in his doorway, the Five-0 detective regarded the men on his doorstep. "Why, Agent Kipton and Agent Markowitz, how lovely to see you again," Danny said sarcastically.

"That's special agent," Kipton corrected.

"Right, special agent," Danny agreed with an emphasis strongly reminiscent of Dana Carvey on Saturday Night Live.

"Maybe we should continue this inside," Special Agent Adam Markowitz suggested.

Danny snorted. "Save that for the civilians," he said. If he let the FBI agents inside, they could poke around at their pleasure. Instead, he stepped out on the square of concrete that passed for a porch at his one-room apartment and shut the door firmly behind him.

"Would you answer my question?" Special Agent Edward Kipton said impatiently.

Danny led the way to an out-of-the-way picnic table and sat on the bench. Kipton sat across from him while Markowitz sat beside him. Danny ignored the flanking maneuver and focused his attention on Kipton.

"Would you mind repeating the question?"

"Where were you at 1 p.m. on Saturday, March 12?"

Danny had expected harassment about obstructing justice regarding his fugitive brother. (The memory made his throat contract.) March 12 was new. He had to think for a moment, then he remembered.

"I was on a boat," he said confidently, realizing he had a solid alibi for whatever the FBI was investigating. "I was chaperoning a 9-year-old's birthday party. Little Hannah, a friend of my daughter's, is a budding environmentalist. She wanted to go whale watching. Hannah's parents, the boat crew, eight little girls and a pod of dolphins can confirm my alibi."

"Do you own a silver Camaro, license number DV2 399?"

"Yes," Danny said suspiciously, wondering where this was going.

"Did you have it with you that day?"

"What, on the boat?"

Kipton glared at him.

Danny was unmoved, but chose to answer the silent question. "I did not have my Camaro. I rented an SUV so we could carpool to the docks."

"Where did you leave your Camaro?"

Danny started to answer; then snapped his mouth shut. Steve! This was about Steve!

Kipton's eyes flashed with triumph. "Well?"

"I think you already know."

"Maybe, but we need to hear it from you."

Danny's mind raced. What trouble was his partner in? Reluctantly, the detective told the agents the truth.

"I left it with Commander McGarrett."

"Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett, the head of Five-0," Markowitz clarified.

"That's correct," Danny said shortly.

Kipton jotted something in a notebook. "Do you often loan your car to McGarrett?" he said slyly.

Whether I want to or not, Danny thought, but he said, "Yes, he likes it and he always washes it and returns it with a full tank of gas."

"So you wouldn't know where he took it or how far he drove it?"

What was going on? Danny had a bad feeling about this.

"I keep track of the mileage for work. I'd probably notice if he drove a couple of hundred miles, but that's not likely on Oahu."

Kipton made another note.

"Is this your car?" Markowitz said, flinging down a photo with a flourish.

Taken from above and behind, the photo showed a silver Camaro with a sunroof. Mud was smeared on the tires and the lower quarter of the car, including the license plate.

"I can't tell," Danny said calmly. "It looks like the same model and color, but I can't see the license plate. I can't have the only silver Camaro on the island."

"We have proof that it's your car, detective," Kipton gloated.

"And if it is, so what? What's this all about?"

"This is about the death of a federal prosecutor, Christopher York, who had been investigating a drug cartel. He had arranged for surveillance to capture pictures of cars going to a meeting. Instead, they got pictures of his killer. These are surveillance photos taken on March 12," Kipton said, waving a thumb drive under Danny's nose. The FBI agent tapped the photo. "This car drove onto a dead end street and then, 20 minutes later, pulled out again. Half an hour after that, when York failed to check in on schedule, the FBI surveillance team checked on him and found him dead. York had been an Army Ranger. He was a certified krav maga instructor. His assassin caught him by surprise and broke his neck in hand-to-hand combat without making enough commotion to alert the surveillance team. Only an experienced commando could do that, someone like a Navy SEAL."

"Maybe so, but why pick on Steve? This island is full of military and ex-military," Danny scoffed.

"Who had access to your car, detective?" Kipton sneered. "I don't think so."

"I know you don't like him. That doesn't make him a murderer."

"He lied to us. He lied and helped your brother escape the country. Did you ever think maybe he didn't do it out of loyalty to his partner? Maybe your brother paid him off."

"You are certifiably insane," Danny said. "I'm not listening to any more."

"You'd better, for McGarrett's sake," Markowitz warned. "Being the governor's pet won't save him from a federal charge. We had evidence enough to convince a federal judge to issue a warrant for McGarrett's arrest."

Danny's heart sank. "If you have a warrant, why are you bothering me?"

"We want you to serve it," Kipton said.

_H50 — H50 — H50_

"You want me to arrest my boss? My friend?" Danny asked incredulously.

"We want you to book him, Danno," Kipton smirked.

Then something happened that his Five-0 friends had never seen. Danny Williams went utterly still. His mouth didn't spit out a diatribe. His hands didn't gesture his outrage. He didn't even bite his lip. The man who was always in motion didn't move. At all.

Looking into his eyes, Kipton was forcibly reminded of the time he flew over Kilauea and looked into the molten heart of its eruption. The FBI agent took an involuntary step back from the murderous fury he saw in Danny's eyes.

Markowitz thought his partner had caught his heel on the rug, because, from the side, he couldn't see the peril. After all, Danny hadn't moved an inch.

Having successfully repressed the impulse to commit homicide, Danny's fingers twitched, his shoulders relaxed and his teeth chewed pensively on his bottom lip.

"You've obviously researched me," he said in a voice so calm and reasonable, Kipton decided he must have imagined the volcanic fury. "Have you gone back as far as my school days? I had an undeserved reputation as a troublemaker when, really, I was a trouble ender. See — this will surprise you, I'm sure — I was kind of a small kid," the 5-5 detective explained. "There were some bigger kids who liked to pick on smaller ones. Bigger or not, three against one or not, I went after them with everything I had. The principal said I started the fight but, in my mind, what I did was finish it."

"Is there a point to this story?"

Danny jabbed his finger in Kipton's chest. "Don't provoke me," the detective said. "Why are you asking me to do this?"

"You can get close to him. Maybe you can talk him into surrendering." The FBI agent didn't say it as if he meant it, but more as if he was just humoring Danny. He thought Steve McGarrett was a dangerous felon and wouldn't surrender without a fight. "If you won't do it, my men and SWAT will. We have a strike force primed and ready. All they need is an address."

Danny tried to remember if he'd ever talked Steve into doing anything. He talked, but Steve never listened. But if he didn't try, Kipton's men would not hesitate to shoot him down like a rabid dog.

"OK, I'll do it, but not for you. And I want something in return. I want that flash drive."

Markowitz protested.

Danny said, "They're just copies of your surveillance photos, right? I want to see this evidence for myself."

"Why do you want it?" Kipton demanded.

"To prove you're wrong, of course," Danny retorted.

"We're not wrong, detective."

"Then it won't hurt to let me have it."

Danny kept his hand out until Kipton gestured for his partner to hand it over.

_H50 — H50 — H50 _

Danny half expected Kipton to impound his Camaro, but the agent permitted him to drive it to HPD — with Markowitz riding shotgun.

The FBI agents obviously didn't want him to warn Steve. Danny wasn't sure he would, even if he could. Danny wanted to tell Steve in person to stop him from going off half-cocked.

At HPD, Danny found Kipton's men organizing a raid with SWAT Lieutenant David Akutagawa.

Kipton's men had worked out positions for SWAT officers and an FBI tactical unit.

"We'll have men on the beach behind the house here and here," the FBI tactical leader said. "We'll put snipers on the roofs here and here and we'll bring in a truck here to provide a third sniper position. I want you to remember this man is armed and considered dangerous. Hell, he's a commando. He's dangerous even unarmed."

Aku nodded at Danny, wondering why the FBI hadn't mentioned Five-0's involvement. "Mind telling us who we're going to arrest?"

"Steve," Danny answered bleakly. "They're going to arrest Steve."

"McGarrett?" Aku couldn't believe it. "Steve McGarrett's the head of the governor's task force!"

"The governor of Hawaii can't supersede federal law!" Kipton said in triumph. "You can see why we kept the target a secret. We're going to send Williams in to try to talk his partner out …" Kipton looked past Markowitz and didn't see Danny. "Where'd Williams go?" he barked.

"Keep your shorts on, Kipton," Danny said as he returned to the room. "I just needed to get some equipment."

"Did you call McGarrett?" Kipton demanded. "It's your duty to assist the FBI."

Danny exploded, bombarding Kipton with verbal shrapnel. "Don't lecture me about duty, damn you. You want me to do your dirty work because you're scared of the big bad SEAL. I'll bring Steve in because I can do it without anyone getting hurt. You're so scared of him, you'd shoot him if he blinked."

"You're wrong about him, Williams. He's a cold-blooded killer and I have the proof."

"If I'm wrong, you can tell my corpse 'I told you so'," Danny snapped. "And when I prove you wrong, when the governor gets back from Washington, I'm going to press her to get you transferred to the 49th state instead of the 50th. I hear Fairbanks is nice this time of year."

_H50 — H50 — H50 _

Steve didn't take it well. When he realized Danny wasn't joking, he got furious. He was determined to have it out with Kipton, but Danny worried if he looked aggressive, he might get himself killed.

"Please, Steve, just come with me quietly. We'll get this straightened out. I'm begging you." Palms together as if he was praying, Danny pleaded with his friend to be reasonable, but Steve was too angry.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Steve, if you don't come quietly for questioning, I'm going to have to arrest you!"

Steve slapped his friend's hands away. "You think you can take me, Danny?"

"Take you? What are you, eight? No I couldn't take you, not on your worst day. You're a trained killer and I'm just a cop," Danny said realistically. "That's why the FBI ordered me to bring you in. That's why they're afraid of you!" he shouted.

"I'm going out there and you're going to have to shoot me to stop me!"

Danny sighed in surrender and stuck his hand in his pocket. "No, I don't have to shoot you. That's the beauty of modern science."

Planning his verbal assault on Kipton, Steve was only half listening. "Huh?" He started to turn and Danny tasered him.

**To be continued**

_H50 — H50 — H50_

_I know, tasered again. I swear, I wrote this before the season finale._


	2. Hiding the Kryptonite

**Arresting Development**

**Chapter 2: Hiding the Kryptonite**

Two darts shot from the Taser cartridge, catching Steve in the chest. The electric shock made his knees buckle. He pitched forward and Danny caught him before he could do a face plant on the floor. Still conscious, but no longer in control of his muscles, Steve got a close up look at his friend's sad, sick expression. Wincing as his recently healed collarbone protested the weight, Danny gently laid down his friend and cuffed his hands behind his back, then bent to say in his ear. "Just once, I wish you'd listen to me. Just once." The detective patted his fallen leader on the shoulder, then went out front and gestured Kipton in.

The agent was astounded to see that Danny had subdued Steve without getting out of breath.

"How'd you do that?" he asked, impressed despite himself, then he reared back as the Taser sparked under his nose.

"It's a miracle of modern technology. I'll be glad to demonstrate," Danny said.

Two agents roughly hauled Steve to his feet.

"Hey. Hey! If I find one scratch or bruise on that man, I'm going to shoot the agent responsible!" Danny's threat did not sound like hyperbole.

"Now, detective." Kipton tried to placate him.

Danny waved a finger in his face. "Don't start with me. You forced me to taser the best friend I have…" He took a deep breath and corrected himself. "… had. The best friend I had on this island. Don't push me any farther."

He stormed out of the house, shouldering Kipton aside, following the two agents who had to support Steve's faltering steps. They let him down gently so he knelt on his front lawn. Now he could see the task force that had been mobilized to take him in, FBI agents in heavy assault gear, snipers on the neighbors' roofs.

"Danny," he said weakly.

The detective went down on one knee beside him.

"Not 'had,' partner," Steve continued. His eyes flicked around the task force. "I think I understand now."

Some of the tension seeped out of Danny once he knew his friend didn't hate him. "Have I told you lately that you're an idiot?" the detective said kindly.

"I'm beginning to see your point," Steve admitted.

Danny touched his shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out."

"I didn't do it."

Danny threw up his hands. "Duh!"

"Danny, do me a favor?" Steve asked.

"If it's not too strenuous," Danny joked.

Steve gave him a phone number. "Ask for Mitchell."

"Why?"

Steve's eyes flickered toward Kipton. "Lawyer," he said succinctly.

"You got it." Danny stood. "Aku, I'm going back to the office. If they put one scratch on my partner, shoot 'em," Danny ordered.

"Whatever you say, detective," the SWAT commander replied.

Pretending a confidence he didn't feel, Danny swaggered to his car, as the troops parted before him like the Red Sea parted before Moses. Danny could have sworn he saw awe on the younger officers' faces and an unflattering incredulity on some of their elders. He couldn't resist the stage.

"It's not as hard as you think, boys. You just have to know where to hide the kryptonite," Danny told the onlookers.

It was annoying that Steve's snort of honest amusement was the only laugh.

Danny drove the Camaro three blocks, then had to pull over, rest his head on the steering wheel and ride out the shakes as adrenalin caught up to him. He met his own eyes in the rear view mirror. "That was the hardest thing I've ever done," he told himself.

At McGarrett's house, the agents finished their search. Two of them hauled the now revived but unresisting commander to his feet. One shoved him toward a car hard enough to make the handcuffed man stumble.

The crack of a pumping shotgun yanked everyone's attention to Aku. He stood still as a statue, weapon at port arms, unthreatening yet soooo ominous in his dark protective gear.

"Lieutenant," Kipton warned.

Aku was unmoved. "No scratches. No shoving. Show some manners, agent."

"I'm in charge here," Kipton blustered.

Aku flicked his gaze down at his shotgun, then smiled tightly at Kipton. "Detective Williams flattened a Navy SEAL without even mussing his hair," the SWAT commander said mildly. "I don't want to make him mad. Do you?" He transferred his gaze to the agents with Steve. "Manners," he repeated.

The agents politely ushered Steve to their car and helped him in. As they got in, the prisoner looked back at Aku and winked.

"Good luck, Steve," Aku said under his breath as the car drove away.

_H50 — H50 — H50_

Danny didn't trust Kipton to not put a tap on his cell phone, or on the phones at the Five-0 headquarters, so he stopped at one of his favorite bakeries.

"Is it Tuesday already?" the tiny Chinese woman asked.

"Pearl, I'm having a really bad day," Danny said. "Give me three of those chocolate pastries and let me use your phone?"

"Three, Danny? Shame on you," the motherly woman said, careless of the impact on her sales figures. "And what's wrong with your phone?"

"I think the FBI might be bugging it," Danny said solemnly.

She threw her hands in the air in an exaggerated gesture. "You're always teasing me," she accused. "Fine, don't tell me. The phone's in the back there."

"You're a life saver." Danny wedged himself into the tiny office between the overflowing filing cabinet and the battered wooden desk, then dialed the number Steve had given him.

"Operations, Ensign Garcia speaking," a young man's voice answered.

That was uninformative.

"May I speak to Mitchell, please," Danny tried.

"Do you mean Admiral Mitchell," the voice said frostily.

Admiral? Danny mouthed to himself.

"If that's the only Mitchell there, I guess I do," Danny answered tartly.

"May I tell him who's calling?" The temperature of the ensign's voice had dropped beyond frosty to icy.

Danny didn't think his name would mean anything to an admiral, but he did think he'd detected the reason Steve wanted him to call. It was worth a try, anyway.

"No, Ensign Garcia, you may not. But you may tell the admiral that Lt. Cmdr. Steven J. McGarrett has been arrested by the FBI and is being interrogated as we speak," he said harshly, then added with mocking politeness. "I'll hold."

Despite his anxiety, Danny only had time to woodpecker-rap his pen on the desk a dozen times before a booming voice came on the line.

"Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"This is Detective Danny Williams, Five-0. My partner Steve McGarrett gave me this number and your name and the message 'lawyer.' I assume he is now not answering questions at FBI headquarters. I further assume, you might be interested in keeping the 'not' in that sentence. I, personally, don't see any reason Steve couldn't laugh off the sort of interrogation that the FBI is permitted to dish out, but I don't see why he should put up with their bullshit any longer than he has to, either."

"Hang on. I'll send someone."

The admiral covered his receiver with his hand, but Danny could hear him bellow muffled orders — including the word JAG — before he returned to the call.

"Williams," the admiral mused. "McGarrett's told me about you."

"Nothing good, I suppose."

"Variable," Michell said, amused. "How much has he told you about his Navy career?"

"The only thing he's told me is that he can't tell me anything," Danny answered. "But — being a detective — I deduce he specialized in doing things that I — as a detective — would consider illegal. Of course, now that I think about it, most of what you Navy boys do is what we civilian cops would consider illegal — shooting people, blowing things up, starting fights in bars on Saturday night."

"Supplying humanitarian aid, rescuing earthquake survivors," the admiral said dryly.

"I only said 'most,'" Danny pointed out. He was feeling a little better. All he'd needed was a good rant, though he'd hate to think he was dependent on naval personnel for his mental health. That was a frightening thought. "Now, are you going to send our boy some help?"

"On the way," the admiral confirmed.

"Good, then if you'll excuse me, I have to track down the perp that the FBI should have arrested!"

"Williams, you are sure about this, aren't you. McGarrett's actually under arrest?"

"Of course, I'm sure. I cuffed him myself!" Danny said and hung up.

"I charged your card," Pearl said, when she handed Danny two bags on his way out.

He weighed one of them in his hand. It was heavier than pastry. "What's this?"

"Fruit cup, no papaya, just the way you like it. You can't live on pastry alone, though it would do wonders for my business."

Danny stole a quick peck on her pudgy cheek as he passed.

_H50 — H50 — H50_

Chin Ho Kelly and his cousin Kono Kalakaua were leaving HPD when they heard some SWAT officers talking about the arrest.

"Come on!" one of the HPD detectives scoffed. "You're telling me Williams took down McGarrett."

Chin and Kono exchanged a startled look, then followed the voices.

"I swear it," SWAT officer Hsieh insisted. "Didn't have a scratch on him, either."

HPD Detective Miles held his hand an unflattering three feet off the floor. "Williams took out McGarrett?" He stretched his arm clear above his head.

"Yes," Hsieh said patiently. "Danny Williams arrested Steve McGarrett and he didn't go quietly, either. We could hear him yelling from outside. He did, didn't he lieutenant?" Hsieh appealed to Aku.

"He did. When Danny opened the door, Steve was on the ground and he was still shaky when the FBI agents brought him outside. Danny didn't even have to straighten his tie." Aku liked Danny and Steve and was disturbed by the whole situation. He looked coldly at the HPD detective and said sarcastically. "What's your problem, Miles? Fifteen years on the force. You think Danny's never had to arrest someone bigger than he is?" Since Danny was just 5-5, that was highly unlikely.

Miles looked abashed. He liked the New Jerseyan and admired his detective skills, but McGarrett was a freakin' Navy SEAL! Miles was saved from choking on the foot in his mouth when Kono and Chin came in.

"Aku, what happened?" Chin demanded.

The SWAT lieutenant rubbed his hand on his bristly buzz cut. "The FBI had a federal warrant to arrest Steve. The agent in charge, a guy named Kipton, forced Danny to serve the warrant. He seemed to have some grudge against you Five-0 types."

"He does," Chin answered, but didn't explain. It was Danny's personal problem and Chin wasn't about to air it in HPD.

"I don't know how Danny did it," Aku said — actually, he had a pretty good guess, but he wasn't one to spoil Danny's magic trick. "But I'm glad he did. Otherwise we had orders to shoot Steve. My guys might have hesitated, but the FBI agents wouldn't have."

"How was he?" Kono asked anxiously.

"Which one?" Aku asked. "Steve looked fine, but Danny was furious. He's probably back at Five-0 by now."

"We'd better find him," Kono told her cousin.

_H50 — H50 — H50_

When Chin and Kono entered Five-0 headquarters, they found Danny walking slowly through the war room, swinging a hand-held gadget from side to side. He was sweeping for bugs, Chin realized. Danny smacked the device with the heel of his hand. Chin took it away with a grimace. He noted that Danny had been using it correctly, but he was too impatient to wait for it to register.

While Chin continued the sweep, Danny dropped into a chair next to the conference table. He plucked and chewed at his lower lip in anxious contemplation.

Kono put her hands on his shoulders, but hesitated to say anything if Danny feared eavesdropping, but she decided she could discuss what everyone was talking about.

"Danny, are you all right? Why are you sitting here in the dark?" she added as a bit of misdirection.

Danny gave her a weak smile. "Want a pastry?" Danny asked, holding out the full bag. "I'm not hungry."

If Danny didn't want sugar, he really was feeling as nauseated as he looked.

"Is it true, brah? You arrested the boss?" Chin asked, as he swept the detector from side to side.

"The FBI thinks Steve is an assassin. They had a warrant. Kipton — the one who lost my brother? — he picked me to serve it," Danny said bitterly.

"Punishing you?" Chin asked.

"That's part of it, I'm sure. I had to do it," Danny argued, as if the others had reproached him. "If I hadn't, Kipton would have stormed the house. Steve would have reacted by instinct. I mean, what, his house has been invaded twice. His father was murdered there. He would have reacted and Kipton would have shot him." Danny clenched his fist thinking of the FBI agent.

"Everyone wants to know how you did it," Kono said, hoping to calm her distraught friend.

For answer, Danny tossed the Taser on the table.

"You tased him, brah?" Kono asked in amazement.

"I tasered him," Danny admitted bleakly. "I used the darts, not the drive stun. It didn't even knock him out, just put him down long enough for me to cuff him. He said he was OK." Danny sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He put his face on his forearm on the table.

Kono gave his shoulders a comforting massage.

"It was the only way," Danny said, his voice muffled. "Kipton would have shot him."

_H50 — H50 — H50_

Chin methodically scanned the main room and each office, then he gestured. Kono nudged Danny and they followed Chin into Kono's office.

"Steve's phone, yours and mine have old-fashioned microphones in them. They can pick up conversations on the phone and in the office," Chin said. "Easy enough to plant them. No one would think twice about federal agents coming into the building when we weren't here."

"Kono's office is clear?" Danny asked.

"Guess they didn't think the rookie was a threat," Chin said, grinning at his cousin.

"I think I'm offended," Kono pouted.

"I think Kipton is sloppy," Danny said.

"Why did they use low tech pickup mikes?" Kono asked.

"To circumvent my high tech monitoring system," Chin said. "That won't happen again," he promised.

"They can't tap into our computer?" Danny asked.

"Not without me knowing," Chin answered confidently.

"Good enough." Danny rubbed his hands together. "Make double sure the war room is clear, then we're going to find the real killer."

Danny explained what he knew about the evidence.

"So, Steve fits the profile and drives the same kind of car. That's pretty flimsy," Kono said doubtfully.

"Kipton said it was identified as my car. I want to know why," Danny said, tossing the flash drive on the smart table.

Kono downloaded the surveillance photos and they all bent to study them. Chin pulled aside one that showed the windshield of the Camaro. He began to tweak it, to get rid of the reflections.

Danny and Kono paged through the pictures of the muddy license plate.

"Here." Danny pointed. "How much can you blow this up?"

"These are super high def," Kono answered. "I could fill the table with it."

"Here, where the killer spread the mud on the plate. It looks like he put his muddy hand on the bumper. Think we can raise a fingerprint?"

Kono poked and pulled at the image. Slowly she smiled. "Good eye, brah. Looks like a handprint to me," she said.

"Run it," Danny said unnecessarily.

Meanwhile, Chin had been enlarging and enhancing the windshield photo.

"Well, brah, I know why Kipton thinks it's your car," Chin said. "Because it is."

**To be continued**


	3. Ask and Ye Shall Receive

**Arresting Development**

**Chapter 3: Ask and Ye Shall Receive**

_The "blew up" reference is to my Five-0 story, "Boom," available on this website._

_H50 — H50 — H50_

"It is my car?" Danny exclaimed.

"It is," Chin confirmed. "Or rather, it was. It's your old car, Danny, the one that blew up."

"What did you find, Chin?" Kono asked eagerly.

"Here, the photo of the windshield. Enlarge the corner, clean up the reflections …"

"And you can see the VIN number!" Kono realized.

Danny leaned forward. "So the number comes back to me?"

"DMV files say you sold it for junk when it was totaled in an explosion. There's no further record."

"Why doesn't Kipton know that?" Kono asked.

Danny's lip raised slowly in a wolfish sneer. "Because he's a lazy, lousy investigator," the detective said. He absent-mindedly picked up a pastry and bit it as savagely as if he was going for Kipton's jugular. "I'll bet he noted my VIN number when he was investigating Matt."

"So he had it on file," Chin said. "And since you have the same model Camaro and the same license number …"

"He never checked!" The rookie detective Kono deplored such carelessness.

Chin was incensed. Steve could have been killed because of Kipton's sloppiness. "With this, we can get a judge to vacate the warrant right now," he suggested.

But Danny hesitated. He rubbed his hands together in distress.

"What is it?" Chin asked, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I don't want to vacate the warrant. I want to catch the real killer. I want to drag him into FBI headquarters and throw him in Kipton's lap. I want to rub that FBI loser's nose in his mistake," Danny's voice grew ever more vicious until Chin squeezed his shoulder.

"Why, brah? Why isn't it enough to set Steve free?"

"You don't understand, Chin. Kipton forced me to arrest my partner. I don't know what he thought would happen. Maybe he expected the big bad SEAL assassin to kill me and then he could kill Steve. Or, if he was judging by himself, he expected me to refuse and then he could gun down Steve with a clear conscience. He was ready for bloodshed."

Kono cocked her head at her agitated friend. "There's something more, isn't there? Something personal."

Danny couldn't meet her eyes. "When Kipton told me to do it, he said, 'Book 'em, Danno.'"

A flicker of remembered volcanic fury lit Danny's eyes, then he covered them with a trembling hand. He took a deep breath. "But I can't leave Steve hanging for my petty revenge."

Kono understood. Kipton had humiliated her friend and had made him violate an almost sacred precept, protecting his partner.

The flickering images on one of the computer screens came to a halt.

"I think the boss would understand," Kono told Danny, turning his chair to face the monitor. "Maybe this will help."

The computer had come up with a fingerprint match. Edgar Hungerford, Marine commando, convicted of killing a fellow Marine in a brawl. Served his time then was dishonorably discharged. Moved to Hawaii as a bodyguard for a suspected drug dealer who disappeared. Hungerford was considered muscle for hire.

"Murder would be a step up, but not a long one," Chin said.

"Hungerford has worked for drug dealers and York was investigating a drug cartel," Kono pointed out.

"Can we connect him to the Camaro?" Chin asked.

"Let's go talk to the junk dealer and find out," Danny suggested.

_H50 — H50 — H50_

The only thing Steve told Kipton was, "I'm not saying a word until my lawyer gets here." And then he stood mute. Kipton ranted (he was no match for Danny) but Steve didn't say a word.

He reverted to his Navy training. He had been captured by the enemy, chained to a chair and he wasn't going to reveal any information. He looked straight ahead and ignored Kipton. He didn't even flinch when the FBI agent slammed both palms on the table, but he did let a little smirk touch his lips when Kipton had to rub his stinging hands.

Markowitz opened the door of the interrogation room. "McGarrett's lawyer is here." The lawyer bulled his way past the agent.

"Are you continuing to pester my client after he requested an attorney?" the man said sternly. "You did request an attorney?"

"Yes sir," Steve said respectfully. He was looking at a full commander, 5-9, solidly built, with iron gray hair that matched his steely eyes. Steve knew Evan Warwick from base functions. He was the top trial lawyer in the Judge Advocate General's office for Pearl Harbor.

"Sorry I took so long to get here, Steve. I was at the North Shore when the admiral called."

"It was no bother, sir," Steve said with a sly grin at Kipton.

"This isn't a military affair," Kipton blustered.

"I assure you, I am a fully qualified member of the Hawaii Bar Association," Warwick said coldly. "I'd like a word with my client — in private. And take those chains off him!"

Kipton unfastened Steve from the furniture, but he left the handcuffs on. Then Kipton stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into, Steve?" the JAG officer said.

"I honestly have no idea," Steve said. He sketched an outline of the day's events.

"So you think Williams is out looking for the real killer?"

"I know he is," Steve said with simple faith. "That's what he does. I know I didn't commit this murder. I think once Kipton got me on his radar, he couldn't see anyone else."

"What did you do to rub him the wrong way?"

"We met when Kipton and Markowitz were pursuing Danny's brother for securities fraud. Matthew Williams escaped and is now a federal fugitive," Steve said carefully. "Though Danny and I did not help Matt escape, we might not have been as helpful as we could have been," he admitted. "Still, Kipton's the one who let a hedge fund manager get the best of him. He's sloppy and not as good a detective as he thinks he is. He's nowhere near as good a detective as my partner."

After a few more minutes of discussion, Warwick let the FBI agents back in.

"My client is willing to answer questions about the murder of Christopher York. We are not willing to allow fishing expeditions regarding other cases or issues that might relate to Commander McGarrett's covert activities on behalf of our country."

Kipton ground his teeth at this patriotic portrayal of McGarrett, but asked Steve the same question he'd asked Danny earlier.

"Where were you at 1 p.m. on Saturday, March 12?"

"I was at home."

"What were you doing?"

"I worked on my car for awhile — I'm trying to restore my Dad's old Mercury Marquis. Then I washed it, my truck and Danny's Camaro."

"Why did you wash your partner's car? Why did you even have it?"

Steve didn't really have a good answer for why he kept appropriating Danny's car. Maybe he was a control freak like Danny said. For March 12, however, there was a reason.

"Danny didn't want to leave his car at the rental place, so he let me use it. I pay him back by washing the car. I like washing cars. It's relaxing."

"You said Williams lets you drive the car. Did you drive it that day?"

"I drove Danny to the rental agency so he could pick up an SUV to drive a crowd to a kid's birthday party. I picked up Danny and his daughter at the rental place about 5. We went out for pizza, then Danny dropped me at home."

"You didn't drive anywhere else?"

"No."

"And the car was nice and clean when Williams got back?" The dripping sarcasm Kipton put in the sentence baffled Steve who didn't know about the mud-smeared Camaro in the surveillance photos. He simply answered in the affirmative.

"Why did you kill Christopher York?" Kipton demanded sharply.

"I didn't."

"Was it for money?"

"My client already said he had nothing to do with the murder," Warwick put in.

"But you do have the capability of killing a man with your bare hands, don't you, McGarrett?"

"Don't answer," Warwick instructed.

"It is part of SEAL training, isn't it?" Kipton taunted. "How many men have you killed that way?"

"I already said that Commander McGarrett will not answer any question that might relate to his service with the Navy," Warwick said firmly.

"I would like to make one statement," Steve interjected.

Warwick looked dubious, but agreed.

"Kipton, you're barking up the wrong tree," Steve said forcefully. "I had nothing to do with this murder. I never even heard of York before."

"Then explain how Williams' car — which you admit was in your possession — was photographed at the crime scene on the day of the murder."

"It wasn't."

"It was. I have proof."

"You can't have proof. You've made a mistake — as usual. You're chasing me out of spite, because you couldn't catch Matthew Williams," Steve accused.

"You lied to us!"

"I may have made a mistake," Steve corrected. "Just like you're making one now. And I'll tell you something else." Angry, Steve ignored his lawyer's gestures to sit down and shut up. "You should not have done that to Danny. Making him arrest me was vicious and vindictive. I hope he makes you pay for that!"

"Ask and ye shall receive. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and it shall be opened unto you," Danny said piously as he barged through the door without knocking, while Chin and Kono held Markowitz at bay behind him.

Danny marched a prisoner into the interrogation room. The man was taller than McGarrett and built like a bull. Danny looked like a dwarf next to him, but the handcuffed prisoner was utterly cowed.

"You, up!" Danny ordered Steve.

Steve obeyed with alacrity.

"You, down," Danny said, prodding his prisoner with a finger. The man cringed and sat.

"Who's this?" Warwick asked Steve in a low voice.

"My arresting officer," Steve said proudly.

"Agent Kipton, meet Edgar Hungerford. He's your real killer," Danny said with triumph.

"How'd you capture him?" Warwick said, marveling at the size of the prisoner.

"Same way I took Steve," Danny answered.

"Ah, kryptonite," Steve said wisely.

"It took three Taser cartridges, but Eddie finally decided to cooperation was preferable to repeatedly falling on his face," Danny said.

Kipton finally found his voice to sputter a protest.

"Look, I know you're not much of a detective, so I'll spell it out for you in capital letters," Danny said with mocking kindness. Kono handed Danny a sheaf of papers. He slapped a photo on the table. "Here's Eddie's fingerprints in the mud on the Camaro, as seen in your own surveillance photos." *Slap* "Here's a photo of the VIN number of that Camaro — which you seemed to think was proof that it was my car. But…" *Slap* "Here's the documentation showing that I sold that car for scrap two months ago."

Steve straightened, finally understanding. "Oh, that Camaro!"

Danny winked at him, then continued addressing Kipton, "Here…" *Slap* "…is a copy of my current registration showing the VIN number of my current Camaro, the one I left with Steve on March 12. You could — you should — have checked this with DMV."

Danny slapped a final photocopy on top of the growing pile of documents. "Here is the junk dealer's receipt for sale of the scrapped Camaro. It was supposed to be used for parts, but Eddie did a real nice job of fixing it up — at least on the outside. It's got a cheap engine under the hood, but it looks nice. Of course, being less than a standup kind of a guy, Eddie didn't bother to reregister the car when he got it running, but he's a regular at the scrapyard, so the man had his address. And here we are."

Danny gestured expansively at the FBI agent. "Now, are you going to take those handcuffs off my partner, or am I going to have to use kryptonite on you, too?"

Slapped silly by Danny's evidence and battered by his words, Kipton released Steve and chained the new prisoner to the chair.

As he followed Warwick and Steve out the door, Danny had one parting shot for the numb FBI agent. "Better start looking at parkas and snowshoes, Kipton."

_H50 — H50 — H50_

"Tell me everything!" Steve demanded as they left the federal building.

"There's not much more to tell," Danny said. "Chin found the VIN number and Kono ID'd the fingerprints."

Kono refused to accept the credit. "It was Danny who brought us the photos and his idea to look for fingerprints in mud in the first place."

Warwick said, "I don't understand why you kept investigating, going so far as to make an arrest. You left Commander McGarrett in Kipton's hands for an hour or more longer than necessary. Once you had the VIN number, you could have just gotten a judge to vacate the warrant. That would have been much faster."

Danny looked guilty, but Steve laughed, remembering the dumbfounded look on Kipton's face.

"Faster, but not half as satisfying," the commander said.

**The End**


End file.
